Glen of Tears
by Sparrowchen
Summary: Everyone believes to know Hogwarts' ennerving poltergeist. But do they really? This fanfiction reveals a story of friendship, hatred and betrayal... And the creation of a poltergeist...
1. Prologue

Heyho!

My readers in future out there!

This is my first story in English, so please forgive possible mistakes, would you?  
This is my personal view of Peeves' past (if he had one...) and I hope you like it. It is based on historical events and takes place in Scotland. I think there is no need for explanation concerning the historical facts, though it make occur in the following chapters.

Enjoy reading!

Disclaimer: Peeves belongs to "that muggle lady", more commonly known as J.K.Rowling.

Warning: Major character death (obviously, as it is a story about Peeves )

Prologue

You probably have already heard of poltergeists, haven't you?

You know that they are a special kind of ghosts, more than an imprint, more than a shadow. They have no real body, but can nevertheless touch things, throw sticks and even chew raspberry gum, but they do not tread on the ground like the living and they do not breathe either. Poltergeists are a strange mixture of life and of death. Though they have some signs of a living, intelligent creature, they cannot have the life of a living person, but are forced to stick between... But you know that already, at least if you're not a stupid, firstie Hufflepuff.

And you probably know that they get their life from the anxiety and the nervousness of teenagers and other young stupid gits and that they are therefore often to be met within the surroundings of schools.

I wish I could claim myself to be one of those. Actually, I did that before. I told that stupid muggle lady who wanted to write about Potty that I was a mere spirit of chaos, that I was created by the minds of all these children who attend Hogwarts and that I never was human.

It was a lie. It was a lie she believed but nonetheless a lie.

Unfortunately, I'm just the other kind of poltergeist. You know, whereas some of us are mere spirits, mere reflections of children's angst, some others have been humans once.

Poltergeists can be created if a child dies in a state of shock, horror or vengeance. It's when you die and you're not finished yet. It's when you were too young to fully accomplish yourself. If you died not in the right moment and because of bad fortune. If you have had bad enemies who took your lives and those of the ones you love.

It's when you leave friends behind, if you leave jokes to be made and pranks to be played.

I was child when I died and almost all of these conditions which make a poltergeist are accurate for me.

My name is Peeves. And this is my story...

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I know it is short...The next chapter is certainly longer... But please review nonetheless and tell me if you like it! 

btw: there is a French translation by my good friend banshee666 and it is really good!


	2. Summer

Hello to my dear readers!

Thanks for my reviewer Amras and for those who read and liked my story, but couldn't review, because I was too stupid to enable anonymous reviews. This has, however, changed now. All of you are now able to review (and I hope all will do so...g)

Disclaimer: Hogwarts and Peeves belong to JKR, Glencoe and its inhabitants as well as all other historical characters belong to themselves...

Warning: character death, violence in later chapters...

Now, enjoy reading my story!

Summer

It was the summer of 1691. Me and my sister, dearest Mairi, had just turned fifteen. The new school year had begun and we were now in the fifth grade. It was somehow special that we should go to school, being simple Highlanders of the 17th century. Normally, there would have been no school for the likes of us, because of the lack of money and of a suitable school in the parts of the Highlands where we lived.

But then again, it was no ordinary school. It was the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, founded 691 years ago by the famous Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. It didn't matter there that we were neither rich nor English. The only important thing was that we had certain magical abilities just like many of our ancestors... And this magical heritage gave us the right to go to school and to learn to do charms and spells and things like that just like every other magically gifted child on the British Iles, be it rich or poor, be it English, Irish or Scotch.

Of course there were some who didn't believe that everyone was equal, as there are always people who believe they are best and have nothing but contempt for their inferiors.

I do not think the hatred and the loathing begin with the Slytherins, but they are the first to be reported, and from them on, there have been a lot of familiar thinking families: the Blacks, the Snapes, the Malfoys and many others.

Whereas today it is mostly that Riddle guy who leads the movement, at my time the main racist amongst us was to be found in the midst of the Campbells. They were a Scottish family and they were our grimmest foes. Not only were they Slytherin, but in a world where the wizards were not politically seperated from the muggles, but dominated by the same King or Queen, they were followers of that bloody English traitor, that William of Orange who had conquered the Throne that legally belonged to dear King James.

As you might have guessed by now, my family was not part of his most loyal subjects, no, not all. In fact, my father belonged to the rebels, which had fought in the Jacobite uprise in 1689. Hardly did we know then that this battle, lost when the Jacobite leader Viscount Dundee died, could doom the fate of our innocent Highland clan. No, we did not know that the McDonalds of Glencoe would soon be lost, just because they stayed faithful to the King over the water, James Stuart the II.

But in the summer of 1691, no shadows of the forecoming future had hit our little family. I was a sorrowless boy of fifteen years who rather cared about how to pester the Campbells' sons, not why we were such foes.

My best friend Patrick O'Malley and I were lying in the grass, simply enjoying ourselves in the pleasant sun.

As usual we talked about everything, most of it pure nonsense.

„You know, Pat," I said grinning, „we should play a prank again, We haven't done it lately."

Pat chuckled. „Yes, of course not. We had holidays. You were up here in Scotland and I in sweet green Ireland, so it would have been quite difficult to do something, eh?"

I sighed.

„Aye, mate. If there's a reason why holidays are bad, then that's why..."

Pat laughed.

„But you did not miss school, did ye?"

„No. Just pranks." I laid back in the grass, looking up at a baby-blue sky, almost cloudless. How I loved it just to lay down on Hogwarts' lawns, doing nothing but planning our little mischief.

„You know, we should attack those bloody Campbells... Bloody barons, think they're better than us...We should... don't know... make their underpants vanish, or something like that..."

„Oh, no..." I saw Pat frowning. Strange, I thought. He likes pestering them as much as I do. But then he continued.

„We did this last year. Let's try something else. The underpants thing is too nice for the likes of them."

I laughed out loud. That was typical for Paddy. He liked trying new things... Especially, new things that were a nuisance to the Cambell brothers.

He grinned. „You laughing at me, McDonald? You think I'm funny? I'll give you something to laugh at!" And within a moment, he was above me, tickling.

Unfortunately, I was quite ticklish. He won, of course, our little fight, and soon after we were again lying in the grass, panting.

„You. Are. Crazy." I told him, quite seriously.

He answered, equally earnest. „Otherwise we would not be friends." And again we laughed.

All in all, we passed an amusing morning.

At least, until noon, when a threatening shadow came upon us. A terrible, terrible fate awaited us. The scolding of my dear sister. Hania.

„You two."

I opened a lazy eye.

„Aye?"

„You were playing truant."

Somehow, at the early age of thirteen, she had already required the infuriated frown that was needed if two marauders like us were anywhere nearby. Or rather three, if my twin, Mairi was taking part in our little schemes.

However, Hania was quite frightening when she was angry, which was definitely so.

„You shouldn't do this. Professor Setanta is furious."

Professor Setanta was our headmistress and she was always furious.

„No worries, then. That's quite normal, huh?"

As a consequence to our little pranks (which included exploding toilets, potions, what have you), we were getting quite used to her anger, and by now, we just gave a slight shrug.

Finally, Hania succeeded. Pat and I got up and walked towards the castle, ready for a nice little scolding by Professor Setanta.

Three hours of shouting and two hours of detention later, we sat in the Great Hall and dined.

Laughter and chattering filled the high walls up to the ceiling. It was incredibly loud, given the fact that we were just about 300 pupils. But then again, 300 is very large (and especially loud) number amongst teenagers as we were.

I had good fun poking Pat and thus constantly annoying him, when Morgaine McGonagall's disdainful look hit me.

She had most definitely the greenest eyes I had ever seen, and whereas mine own are as dark as the Pit, hers were sparkling brightly. Her dark hair was somehow flowing with unbelievable grace in a merely imagined breeze. It was just a pity she looked so angry at me. She must have thought me quite childish. I wonder she'd think about me now- 300 years later and still the same... 

Anyway, I must have looked quite stupid in this moment (incredibly similar to Potty when he looks at this Chinese girl, I guess), because Patrick started laughing like a madman. I, however, started throwing potatos at him as a revenge- which made me seem even lower in Morgaine's regard.

Later that night, when we lay in bed, Patrick asked me about Morgaine. I answered him quite frankly that she must be the love of my life. Despite his former teasing, I knew I could trust him with such highly important information. He was, after all, my best friend. And more important, I know whom he was in love with, too.

Patrick fancied my twin Mairi a lot. Since Mairi and Morgaine were good friends, we had the great opportunity to watch them together and to assist each other in love's cruel woes.

We followed the girls around a lot this summer.

It was a pleasant time.

We sat at the beech near the lake, whilst the girls were wading in the shallow waters.

We made walks round Hogwarts' meadowes, always with a diplomatic distance to our dearest girls.

But we didn't forget the pranks, of course. How could Petar McDonald and Patrick O'Malley forget being mischievous?

We couldn't.

Blowing up the dungeons, hiding all the books from the library in a forgotten closet and locking the Campbell brothers away in the Room of Requirements(much for their own pleasure, it was full of Firewhiskey) were just some of the... little experiments we did.

Time passed.

It became colder and heavy rains washed over the Highlands. The trees wore ornaments of red and yellow.

Storms came upon Hogwarts more often and soon, Autumn had entirely conquered the beautiful Scottish landscape.

Time passed.

The colourful leaves began to fall. Hoarfrost whitened the grass in the mornings. In the early days of November, the first snow covered the soft hills and the harsh rocks. The deers prepared for the difficult season.

Autumn had perished, Winter had won.

Hardly did I know that it was the last winter, the last snow and the last dances on the frozen lake I should ever experience _alive._

Reviews? Please!


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